I kept walking.
“Wednesday,” he said catching up to me.
I climbed up on my scooter and he stood in front of it, straddling the front wheel.
“Thursday.” He put his hands over mine on the handlebars. I shivered and my heart began to race.
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “You know, I could make the argument that Friday is the best day of the week.”
My breath hitched and I didn’t know how to respond. He stepped away from the scooter and winked at me. “I’ll pick you up in thirty, Saturday.”
I should’ve run him over while I had the chance.
I took my time driving home. Going out with him wasn’t the worst thing I could do. But he was so damn arrogant. I could just pretend I was sick.
Nan was in the kitchen, drinking her coffee, as usual. “Where are you going tonight?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking I might stay home.”
“Oh please no. Don’t you have some place you can go?”
Lesser of two evils. I didn’t know what Wyatt had planned so I put on a pair of long jeans and my cowboy boots. I grabbed a fresh sweatshirt, then searched for my sketchbook. It wasn’t on the nightstand where I left it. Neither were my colors. I searched through my drawers, thinking maybe Nan had cleaned up. I checked the closet and under the bed.
Huh.
My stomach twisted at the thought of having to go ask Nan if she’d seen it.
I cautiously sat down on the chair across from her. “Hey Nan, I left my sketchbook in my room and it’s not there anymore. Have you seen it?”
She snorted. “I’m not your mother.”
I took a couple of deep breaths, not wanting to take the bait. “Yes, I know that. My mother is dead. Have you seen it?”
“Good thing she’s dead. That way she doesn’t have to see the pitiful pictures you call art.”
My heart tightened. “What are you talking about?”
She stood and towered over me. “Yeah, I saw your sketchbook and the chicken scratches you did. I burned it.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you had no right to defile Alejandro like that.”
I pushed past her and ran to my room. Tears were already streaming down my face and I didn’t want her to see me cry. I snatched the picture I had posted on my mirror. It was the last thing I had of my sketches. Of course I had more back in Vegas, but the sketchbook she burned was almost full and the only journal I had of Tombstone. This was sketchbook number twenty-five. Now there would be a gap on my shelf in Vegas. I couldn’t believe she’d do that to me. I folded the picture and shoved it in my pocket.
Then I sat on my bed and tried to calm down. I had to stop crying; Wyatt would be here at any minute and I didn’t want him to see me like this. I found the box in my head titled “Nan” and tried to shove the burned notebook inside, but it was too painful.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Naomi.
Learn anything new?
Nope
Keep your eyes and ears open and stay SAFE.
I couldn’t process what she’d meant by that, and I was too distracted to care. Of course I’d stay safe. Not that Guardians were even dangerous. I did feel like I was missing something, and that frustrated me even more.
Wyatt was on his way here. I took a few deep breaths. Eventually I was able to box away my pain, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t last long.
The doorbell rang and I ran for it, not wanting Nan to intercept him. Wyatt stood there with a massive sunflower. “For you, Sunday.”
It was the first time he’d said my name and I felt butterflies in my stomach.
“Thank you.” I stepped outside and closed the door. “Where are we going?”
“It’s still pretty early. I thought we’d head to Tucson and catch a movie or something.”
As we neared the city he asked me what kind of movies I liked.
“I’m game for just about anything.”
“Anything? You might regret that. Remember what we watched at the Bird Cage?”
“No, I don’t actually. What movie did we watch?”
He didn’t answer as we pulled up in front of an ancient movie theater.
“It’s Mondo Monday. They have the best b-movies in town.”
He bought two tickets to Killer Clowns from Outer Space.
During the movie his arm was draped along the back of my chair, and I found that I really enjoyed his company and his comments on the truly awfully creepy clowns. Now that he learned my name, he wasn’t half bad.
After the movie we walked down to Starbucks. He held my hand, and I was reminded that I really enjoyed the idea of a relationship instead of just random kissing. Not that Wyatt and I had a relationship. Not yet. But things were looking up. Although my heart still tightened a little when I thought of Jordan. Why’d he have to be such a prick? What if Wyatt turned out to be the same way?
And Beth. She said she was over Wyatt, but that was so far from the truth. She was mad at me now, but I figured she’d get over that. If Wyatt and I actually progressed into something more than just friends, that could ruin things with her. I wanted to be her friend; I needed her. She was the only girl in whom I’d sensed power in all of Tombstone.
I pulled out the picture of Wyatt from my pocket and wished I had my sketchbook with me.
He laughed when he looked over my shoulder.
“I guess I made an impression on you, huh?”
“You scared the hell out of me.”
“What were you doing there anyway?”
“I was looking for a cactus to sketch. I thought it was public land.”
He put down a latte in front of me. “Where’s your sketchbook? You always have it with you.”
My insides twisted. “I lost it.” I didn’t want him knowing about Nan. That seemed like something that would lead to more questions than I wanted to answer.
“There’s an art supply shop down the road. You should get another one while we’re here.”
“That would be great.”
“Okay, I’ll take you there but on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to draw something for me.”
“Sure, what do you want?”
He grinned and shook his finger at me. “Uh, uh. I’m not telling you until after we get your new supplies. You have to promise that you’ll draw me whatever I want.”
I was intrigued. Whatever it was couldn’t be that bad. “Okay, but no naughty pictures.” I laughed.
Wyatt wiggled his eyebrows.
At the art shop, I picked out a couple new sketchbooks. Wyatt said that he wanted a big picture, so I picked up a large sketchpad as well. I bought a new set of pencils too.
I started sketching an evil clown on the way home. I put Wyatt’s face on it.
“Is this what you wanted?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, I want you to draw me a self-portrait.”
Oh crap. “You mean you want a picture of me?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t draw myself.”
“How come?”
“Because I don’t. Pick something else.”
“You promised.”
I blinked a few times and then stared at Wyatt in confusion. What was I thinking about? The sun was peeking up over the horizon.
“It’s daylight.”
“Yeah, you fell asleep and the truck ran out of gas in the middle of the desert. I couldn’t get a hold of anyone so I had to wait for someone to come along and help. I just let you sleep.”
Two seconds ago he was making me promise to paint him a self-portrait and now it was daylight. He was lying. But how did my memories just disappear?
“Come on, Nan and Esteban will be worried.”
I followed Wyatt into the house, still unsure of what had happened. Nan was waiting at the kitchen table and jumped up as soon as we entered.
“Oh, thank goodness y
ou’re okay.” She wrapped me in a fierce hug, then let go. “Where have you been?”
Wyatt spoke. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we drove out into the desert and my truck ran out of gas. There wasn’t a whole of help out there. We also had no cell service so I had to wait until someone would stop. Sunday slept in the truck. I’m so sorry.”
Nan nodded like that was the most logical explanation in the world. I’m sure he influenced her to accept it, but I was too out of it to notice what he used to convince her that it was okay. That story didn’t feel quite right to me.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to my room. I didn’t sleep well last night and I want to be alone for a little while,” I said.
I didn’t wait for a response. Once in my room I lay on my bed and thought about what happened last night. I had vague memories of being stuck out in the desert but there was nothing coherent. Was there something wrong with me? Why was I forgetting things?
Lincoln curled up next to me and purred. I spoke out loud to him of the things that I remembered, trying to put pieces together. Nothing made sense.
A knock sounded at my door.
“Come in,” I called.
Nan entered and I sat up. I still remembered what she did to my sketchbook. She sat on the edge of my bed.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I think so.”
She twisted her hands together. “I was so worried about you. Esteban had to hold me back when I said I wanted to organize a search party. He was right, of course, you two were fine, but I thought something horrible had happened to you.”
I frowned. “Why do you suddenly care? No offense, but most days you can’t wait to get rid of me.”
She sighed. “I owe you an apology. I know you can never replace those sketches that I destroyed. I can’t explain what happened, but when I saw those pictures, I just snapped.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I miss Alejandro so much. Your pictures of his hands were so vivid. I couldn’t stand to see it. Then you disappeared last night and something seemed to wake up inside of me. I was so scared I’d lost you too. I’ve gotten used to having you around and all I could think was, ‘the last thing she’ll remember of me is that I ruined her art.’”
This was the most Nan has spoken to me since I arrived. I didn’t know quite what to say. Especially since my head was still a little fuzzy.
“It’s okay,” I said, not sure if I meant it or not.
She touched my hand and I noticed it wasn’t cold like before. “No, it’s not. Come on, I want to make it up to you. Bring your new sketchbooks.”
I picked up the sketchbooks I had brought into the house with me. Nan led me down to a room I’d never been in before. Truthfully, I hadn’t spent any time exploring the house. I knew my room, the bathroom, kitchen, living room, and that was it.
She opened the door and my breath caught. An art studio. The floor was concrete and paint splattered. Canvases were scattered everywhere, mostly half done. A few easels were set up. I picked up a canvas from the ground. It was picture of the desert at sunset. And the sunset was phenomenal, exactly what I couldn’t capture in spite of all my efforts.
“Did you do this?” I asked
“I did.”
“This is amazing. I do sunrises and sunsets all the time and I can’t quite get the colors right. Can you show me how to do this?”
She nodded, then looked around the room and sighed. “You know, I haven’t been in here since he died. It was like he took all my desire to create with him. But it’s time for me to move on. He’s not coming back and I need to accept that.”
She sat with me for a long time and we worked on technique. She was a fabulous teacher. If I studied under her I might not even need art school. After a couple of hours she stood up.
“I think I’m going to go make dinner. Feel free to stay here as long as you want.”
“Can I use a blank canvas? I feel like painting.”
“Sure, help yourself.”
I dug through her stack of canvas and picked a piece that was about three feet tall and two feet wide. I didn’t know what I was going to create but I still felt unsettled by the fact that I couldn’t remember anything about last night.
I began to sketch absentmindedly. I drew a pit and in that pit I started drawing a monstrous cactus, but changed my mind at the last minute and made it into a rose. Huh. Weird. But it made sense somehow. I stood back and surveyed the rose. It looked evil.
A knocked sounded on the door and Esteban stuck his head in the room.
“That Wyatt boy is here to see you.”
I blinked. “Tell him I’m not home, please. I don’t really want to talk to him.” Esteban nodded and shut the door again. I truly didn’t feel like speaking with Wyatt. The last two times I spent any time alone with him, I had huge gaps in my memory.
A few minutes later Esteban came back with a sunflower in his hand.
“He left this for you.”
I took the flower from him, not sure what to think.
“Nan has some vases, do you want me to dig one out for you?”
“Please.”
I put the flower in the vase Esteban found and set it on my dresser.
The next day I called in sick to work. I spent most of the day in Nan’s art studio, working on my new painting. Nan checked on me a couple of times, but mostly let me be. That night Wyatt came over again. Nan asked if I wanted to see him and I refused. I wished he’d go back to ignoring me like he did when I first showed up. Though he left another sunflower. It brightened up my room.
Sunday
The Cereus forbesii flowers only at night. It is a tall, skinny cactus that sometimes spirals. Its flower is large and bright white with pink. Some people claim that it only blooms on a full moon, but scientists say that just isn’t true. There are many things that would be more romantic if they were true. But they’re not.
I COULDN’T FAKE BEING SICK FOREVER so the next day I went to work. Wyatt was quiet at first, which was nice. But when we couldn’t find anything else to clean, he smiled at me. I looked away.
“Sunday,” he whispered and closed the distance between us.
I turned away from him, not wanting to look him in those gorgeous ocean blue eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?” I said, a little louder than necessary. I spun around to face him, which was a mistake. I could immediately feel my anger dissipating, though that might’ve been him trying to influence me. I lowered my eyes. “I have no idea what you are apologizing for.”
He leaned closer. “Then why are you avoiding me if I don’t have anything to apologize for?”
My emotions were all over the place. Desire. Warmth. Anger. Sadness. Frustration.
“That’s the problem. I can’t remember anything from our date. Nothing. Nor can I remember anything from the night at the Bird Cage Theatre. How is this possible?”
I looked up and he grinned. “Sounds like you have a memory problem.”
“Sounds like you’ve been messing with my memories.”
He frowned. “Do you know other Guardians who can mess with memories?”
“No.”
“Then what makes you think I can?”
I threw down the rag that was in my hand. “Because the only explanation is that you did something.”
“You know, that’s a pretty weak theory.”
“Have you got a better one?” I asked.
He didn’t answer. A customer walked in, and from that point on it was pretty busy all afternoon. Wyatt didn’t try to talk to me again, but I found a sunflower on the seat of my scooter. I thought about throwing it out, but it was pretty. I was trying to figure out where to stash it when a hand tapped my shoulder.
I jumped and turned.
“Andrea!” I said. “You surprised me.”
She laughed. “Hey, you wanna hang out?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to have anything to do with Wyatt.
She frowned. �
��How come?”
“I don’t want to be around Wyatt.”
“I didn’t say anything about Wyatt. It’s a girls’ night.”
“Oh, well, okay then.”
“Come on, I’m driving. What’s up with you not answering my texts? I think I’ve sent you thirty of them.” My phone. I hadn’t looked at it since I’d gotten back from my date with Wyatt. It must’ve been turned off.
“Oh, my phone died. I haven’t actually looked at it in a couple of days. Sorry. Things have been fuzzy.”
She cocked her head. “Fuzzy how?”
I took a deep breath. Would she believe me? I needed answers and no one else had them. She would either think I was crazy or she’d know what was up.
“You remember that night at the Bird Cage?”
She frowned. “Yeah, why?”
“I don’t. I literally can’t remember anything from that night. Then Wyatt took me out a couple of days ago, and we spent the entire night together, and I have no memory of any of it. At all.”
She sighed. “Change of plans. Come on, I need to take you somewhere.”
Alarm bells started going off in my head. Would I be safe with her? But then, why wouldn’t I be? I shook my head; I was being silly.
I left my scooter and climbed into her truck.
“Do you know why my memory is missing?” I asked as soon as she pulled out of the parking lot.
She nodded. “But I don’t know what it is you don’t remember. Does that make sense?”
I fidgeted with the seatbelt. “I guess. Are you going to tell me anything? I’m kinda sick of all the secrets.”
Andrea smiled at me. “Yeah, I’m going to tell you stuff, but we need to get somewhere safe first.”
She drove for a while and I didn’t speak because I didn’t know what to say. If I was going to get some answers though, I was willing to wait. We drove out of town and kept going for about a half hour. Then we finally pulled up in front of an old stuccoed house that was surrounded by giant cacti.
She walked to the front door and went right in. I followed her.
The first thing I noticed was the sheer amount of Shade energy filling the room. It was so bizarre, because this level of energy would usually be felt several feet outside of the house as well. It must’ve been pretty well shielded. Whoever lived here was extremely strong.
The Thorn Chronicles-Books 1-4: Kissed, Destroyed, Secrets, and Lies Page 57